Rise Of Empires
by MisterMagic25
Summary: IT'S OFFICIAL... NO MORE WAITING! NO MORE PROMOS! The time has come... The Saints Row empire series begins now. Read as we view the beginnings of Saints rise to the global media empire and as well as the beginnings of the syndicate and how they came to power. Story is AU. Author's for this story are: J3FAwesome & Myself. Read & Review... From End of SR2 till beginning of SRTT...
1. STS: Judgement Calls

_**Throughout history, great leaders have risen from humble beginnings to conquest. It is the story of humanity, and a truth universally acknowledged, that every now and then a situation arises that defies explanation. And, so it was with the ascension of the Third Street Saints.**_

_**When the Saints made their presence known to the world, they were depicted for being nothing but delinquents and dreamers. After conquering the city of Stilwater, they sought to prove their worth as more than low-life criminals. But, the Saints were dealt a major blow when their former leader betrayed them and nearly killed their most loyal member-putting him in a half-decade coma.**_

_**The gang grew confused and angry, but with no one to lead them they soon disbanded. Some short time later, after a climactic jail break, some minor jobs, and recruitment, The Saints were resurrected. Despite this, they still lacked clarity and purpose, once again confused as to where they stood. That is, until their death defying comrade with no name stepped up, and soon their course was set-give other gangs a violent wake-up call. This simple choice revitalized the Saints. After they took back their city, they decided to transform themselves from a degenerate street gang, into a criminal empire.**_

_**And that my friends is where our journey begins...**_

* * *

_"_Alright, let's not be too hasty here...you're upset, you're frustrated..." Dane Vogel begs on his knees as Vincent, leader of The Saints points a gun at his head. Vogel raises his hands to surrender. "And, you've got a gun. Which you know, I'd really like it if you would put that away."

Vincent holds his weapon steady, aiming is square between Vogel's eyes. "You should've thought of that before you sent a fucking team to wipe out my gang," he says, his voice calm and collected.

"I tried telling the board that going after the Saints was a big mistake."

"They should've listen to you, huh? Too bad their ignorant asses aren't a problem anymore."_  
_

Vogel scoots back on his knees. "Believe me, right now I'm agreeing with you 100 percent. But look at the positives, you're alive, they're dead, and you have the Saint's number one fan running Ult-"

"That's where you're wrong," says Vincent. "I'm the Saints number one fan, you're just some pee on in a tweed suit."

"Look, I'm sorry alright? What do you want from me?" Vogel gestures around him. "You want Ultor? Fine, take it. Just don't do anything brash okay?"

Vincent looks around and lifts his strong chin. "You know what? I appreciate that offer, and I accept," he says with a smile.

Vogel breathes a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God."

"And, as the new CEO of Ultor, I'd like to implement my first order of business," says Vincent. He slicks his brown hair back and glares at Vogel.

"Wh-What would that be?"

"Dane Vogel?" Vincent clicks back the hammer on his pistol. "You're fired."

_**BANG!**  
_

Vincent pulls the trigger, sending a bullet flying toward Vogel's agape mouth. It blows through the back of his head, splattering his blond hair with bits of brain and skull. He flies back. The bullet breaks the window behind him. He falls through and down one hundred stories, hitting the sharp edges of Ultor HQ along the way. His body lands with a hard thud on the ground floor, outside the building's front entrance. His bones shattered on impact. The concrete below him is cracked and concaved under his now limber, jelly-like corpse.

Footsteps creep up behind Vincent. He spins around, his pistol still raised and ready to fire. Pierce and Shaundi, fellow Saints, enter Vogel's posh office.

"Aw, man," says Pierce, disappointed. "We missed it?"

Shaundi nudges his arm. "Told ya. Now, pay up."

"Sorry," says Vincent. "You know me, patience is not one of my virtues."

"I'm beginning to think killing is your only virtue," says Shaundi. She crosses her arms and smiles.

Vincent returns her grin and lifts a cell phone to his ear. "You hear from Gat?" he asks her.

"He's still out there, _killing_ cops...something you two have in common."

"Figures."

The phone connects on the other end as Johnny Gat answers. _"What is it?" _

"It's done," says Vincent. The sound of gunfire rings through the phone. "Time to pull out of there."

_"You sure? I mean, I'm not running out of ammo anytime soon."_

"I'm sure. See you back at the crib."

_"Later, Boss."  
_

Vincent hangs up and dials another number.

"Who you callin now?" asks Pierce.

"Our ride."

The trio heads to the rooftop to meet up with Tobias, their aid in defeating the notorious drug traffickers, Sons of Samedi. A running chopper is behind him. Shaundi hands Tobias a lit joint as she climbs into her seat.

"How many of those things do you keep on you?" asks Pierce. "It's like you magically pull joints outta your ass."

"You're just jealous because I never let you have a hit." Shaundi shuts the door and pulls out another joint from her back pocket. She smiles. "You wanna hit?"

"Fuck no. I know you aint washed them jeans in over a week...and they're the only jeans you wear. That joint could have pink eye or some other disease splattered all over it. You hippies need to learn the value of good hygiene."

"What's that supposed to mean? You implying that I'm dirty?"

"I aint implying it...I'm saying it. Girl, you're dirty."

"That is not true." Shaundi looks at Vincent. "Boss, tell him it isn't true."

"I'm staying out of this," says Vincent.

The chopper lifts off the helipad and Tobias flies them over the city. Shaundi leans back in her seat and lights her joint. She takes a long drag and blows smoke in Pierce's face. He coughs and glares at her in response.

"So, whadda we do now, Boss?" asks Pierce, still coughing.

"This is our city," says Vincent. He smiles showing his white teeth. "We do whatever the fuck we want."

Shaundi inhales smoke. "Party?" She asks in a raspy tone, exhaling after a beat.

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

The bass of a hip-hop song fills The Saints' crib. Vincent sits on a plush couch and smiles as his crew lives it up. A blue haze hovers above them from several of Shaundi's affiliates smoking joints left and right. Shaundi, Pierce, and Johnny dance while strippers in string bikinis grind against the furniture around them. Vincent shakes his head. He jumps for a second when someone sits down next to him, the force of their body pushing his side of the cushion up. He turns his head and finds Shaundi's mellow face smiling at him. She plops her feet on the coffee table in front of them.

"You gonna join the party?" she asks.

"This may sound strange," says Vincent. "But, I'm actually kinda tired."

"No way."

"Taking over a city is fucking exhausting." He yawns and leans his head back.

"I got the perfect thing to help you sleep," says Shaundi. She holds out a freshly rolled joint. "A buddy of mine said this stuff will get you high in one hit. It's a great way to relax."

"A buddy huh?" Vincent looks around. "Which ex-boyfriend is he?"

"We never dated...he's gay."

Vincent raises his brow. She smiles and holds the joint out. "You gonna take it or not?"

"Nah, like you said, I'm a bit of a lightweight when it comes to that stuff." He pushes the joint away and lifts a glass of vodka. "I'm a drinker, not a smoker."

Shaundi shrugs her shoulders and takes a drag. She exhales and leans back on the couch.

"You know," says Vincent, his face serious. "It'd be nice to see what you're like sober once in awhile. I'll bet you're a totally different person."

She shakes her head and exhales again. "I'm actually kind of a bitch. You wouldn't like me as much."

"Even so, it'd be nice to see what those hazel eyes of yours look like when they're not bloodshot."

"My eyes are hazel?" asks Shaundi with a furrowed brow.

"You're so fuckin' high." Vincent rolls his eyes and tosses his drink back in one gulp.

_**CRASH!**  
_

A group of men, wearing green, rush into the crib. They fire their weapons at The Saints.

"Party's over assholes!" One yells as he fires a shotgun at the giant Saints Angel statue in the crib. "Time to send you angels to hell where you belong! Lady Calypso sends her regards!"

Vincent pulls Shaundi down behind the couch to protect her and grabs his pistol.

"It's Sons of Samedi," he says into Shaundi's ear. "Those people you invited, you're doped out friends, they wouldn't be associated with the sons would they?"

Shaundi looks into Vincent's deep brown eyes. "Vinnie, I-"

Vincent clenches his jaw and shoves her away as he stands. He lifts his pistol and pops several rounds into a Son's torso. Johnny and Pierce join in, firing off rounds. Spent casings fly, the hot metal shells stinging their hands with each shot.

"That's right you fuckers!" shouts Johnny. He peppers a Son with bullets. "Have a taste of Gat! It tastes good doesn't it? Yum-Yum!"

Vincent grabs his side. An enemy bullet has met its mark. He fires one final round into a Son's head while pressing against the wound with his other hand. The Son's are defeated.

"That's was easy," says Pierce.

"It seems we celebrated too soon," says Vincent. He lifts his hand from the wound. His palm is stained red, as is his white wife-beater and Hawaiian shirt.

"Boss, you alright?" asks Johnny.

Vincent falls against the couch and regains his balance. "I'll be alright. We got bigger things to worry about." He glances at Shaundi as he stumbles to his room. "Let me patch myself up. Then we need to clean house. Apparently there are some stragglers we need to take care of."

Shaundi avoids his eyes as he passes. She bows her head and swallows hard.

"How the hell did they get wind of the party?" asks Pierce.

"I don't know, but the Boss isn't happy," says Johnny. He walks to a dead Son "Let's get these bodies out of here before they stain the carpet."

"It's a bit late for that don't you think?" Pierce huffs as he helps Johnny lift a corpse.

Shaundi remains by the couch. She has a lit joint in hand. Vincent's eyes flash in her mind and she shakes her head. The joint burns in her fingers like hot coals.

Shaundi clenches her jaw. This was all her fault. She lifts the joint and stares at its orange tipped glow. For the first time in a long time, she is disgusted by the smooth herb wafting at her nostrils.

_No more_, she says to herself. She turns the joint upside down and presses it on a table. It burns a hole in the lacquer as she mashes it harder against the wood surface.

The joint is out. Shaundi is through.

* * *

_**A/N: Welcome to the official "Rise Of Empires". Continuum9 and myself would like to thank everyone for their patience, help, ideas, thoughts, and input when it comes to bring this story to where it is now. Stay tuned for more, take care of yourselves, remember someone out there loves you and once again thank you.**_


	2. SYN: Middle East Contact

**Author's Note: Man, a lot has changed since I last posted. I changed Co-Author's (Working with my almost little brother J3FAwesome), it is now fall (this was first posted in the spring), and the third street author's now have a backup forum and a website (more on that at the end). Now the time has come however for a new chapter as we take a look at the Syndicate side of things. Yes I am still going with the format of alternating chapters between Saints and Syndicate. So sit back, relax and enjoy, and as always a review is most certain helpful in more way than one. As well as vote on my poll on my profile. Catch you at the bottom.**

* * *

The drill of the helicopter's rotor made attempts at stifling conversation among the occupants within a near futile attempt, a large portion of their words drowned out by the blades slicing through the crisp early morning atmosphere. Not to mention the winds battering the hull from either side.

The ruckus only served to suppress the slender teen's droning on technological jargon to the older man seated next to him while typing absentmindedly on a tablet lain askew on his lap; the elder simply nodding in agreement despite ignoring the other's words while eavesdropping on more interesting topics, mostly regarding a group of large men conversing about various topics that mostly lead to heated arguments.

"Piss off mate," The largest of the group; a blonde haired man with cold indifferent eyes spoke to one of his companions, throwing up his hands and shaking his head with a slight grin across his hardened features. "I know you're bullshiting," the other in question only let out a breath of exasperation as he glanced about the cabin.

"I shit you not, the bloody thing was big enough to bum a cigarette offa me" This caused the group to break into a fit of boisterous laughter as the man; with large hands demonstrated the proportions of what he claimed to be the biggest arachnid he had ever seen in his life. The older man merely chuckled as a dark haired man that sat next to the storyteller began to argue about the exaggeration of said arachnid until a tug on his sleeve drew his attention back to the teen seated next to him.

Nodding curtly at the youth's rambling on finances and such, the elder proceeded to turn back to the group to find the larger of the group and the more lean, yet athletic man having a makeshift arm wrestling contest with their elbows dug firmly onto a stack of duffle bags as the dark haired man clasped a hand over their large, calloused ones. A series of aggressive grunts and muttered curses filled the cabin as the two pushed for dominance while their comrades surrounded them with jeers and bets on their man in favor.

"Ha! Might want to question ya manhood now ya bloody yank!" The smaller, dark haired man screamed as he pumped his fists into the air victoriously and a self satisfied smirk plastered across his features as he bounced around in his seat while the defeated man's features flashed dangerously. All the while, the men and women exchanged pounds with defeated looks.

"Watch it mate, I wouldn't hesitate dangling out the side of this chopper 'till you piss yourself" The larger man warned with a gravely voice that the other shrugged nonchalantly. After a brief stand-off between the two, their attention was drawn by the elder as he cleared his throat; with the teen's smaller frame peeking out behind his larger one. The silence grew unbearable as their awaited their inevitable punishment after proving themselves to be a nuisance, but in an odd turn of events the elder shot a look of approval towards the blonde man and glanced to the smaller man seated across.

After another brief wave of silence filled with silent conversations, a sudden scuffle and girlish squirm caused the group to turn alarmed toward the sudden gust of wind that entered the cabin; ruffling their clothes and scattering equipment thrown haphazardly onto the duffle bags.

"Stop, stop!" The smaller male screamed in absolute terror as he dangled out the side of the helicopter by his larger comrade, the wailing that followed caused a red-haired female seated next to the side door to snicker along with the others.

"Still think my manhood is still in question? Or do you need a little more fresh air to help you decide?" He spoke through gritted teeth, mostly to stifle the laughter bubbling up in his throat. To further emphasize his point loosened his gripped on the other man's shirt, causing his body to sway back and forth as he continued to struggle.

"No! Please, I'm sorry!" He cried, tears gathering at his lids as he held onto the frame desperately. The other man only released a dark chuckle as another man with his features hidden beneath a balaclava tossed a parachute to the large man; whom proceeded to strap it onto the flailing man screaming in an accent too thick to properly comprehend.

"Bombs away!" The large man screamed at the top of his lungs and he released his hold which caused the other man to tumble over the edge; limbs flailing. No less than a second later a muffled thump and an up kick of dirt caused the men and women to look over the edge of the descending helicopter, breaking into a fit of uncontrollable laughter at their comrade face planted into the dirt no less than a few feet from the hovering aerial vehicle.

"Enjoy your fall lad?" The large man said between laughs as he and his fellow companions jumped onto the tarmac, kneeling by the smaller man's side as he sucked in deep breaths with his eyes clamped tightly.

"I bloody hate you-" He said spitting out rubble and dirt that found it's way into his mouth after his fall, and as if on cue his chute deployed; extending a mere foot above his head before draping over his body in a navy blanket. His companion only chuckled as he helped him out from underneath the chute and joining the throng of people heading towards the mess hall.

Watching the entire scene, the older man exited the helicopter with a faint smile playing on his lips as he stepped onto the tarmac where he was greeted by a large, dark-skinned man whose face came into a grin. Behind him, men and women alike stood broad-shouldered and at high attention; a certain twinkle in their eyes as they caught sight of the older man.

"Welcome to base sir," He greeted with a hand clasped on the older man's shoulder and lead him and younger associate from the tarmac and towards a building at the far-end of a neatly paved road that was lined on either side with men and women of various heights and builds; each voicing their greeting as the trio walked past. The elder nodded his head in approval throughout the walk.

"Well I'm impressed," The teen spoke up, catching the larger men's attention. Each nodded to each other as they entered inside of a large building toward the center.

"Impressive indeed," The elder spoke with a slight European lisp as he scanned the impressive décor and attention to detail of the interior. But more importantly, a large and comfortable looking sectional crammed into a corner of the expansive area. He voiced a pleased grunt as he flopped down onto the soft material.

"Now, I am impressed..." He stated to no one in particular as he stretched himself out; his back cracking in succession as he made himself comfortable.

"Only the finest sir," The large man replied, taking a seat next to the older man and kicking his feet up onto a nearby coffee table settled atop an elegant rug.

"Yet at a price," The teen voiced while scrolling through unseen documents on his tablet before looking back to the other men. "Not to mention shipping costs alone, along with attracting the attention of local militia scouting through the area-"

"-Calmez-vous" The elder interrupted, silencing the youth. Defeated, the younger man slouched onto a plush love seat with his tablet thrown at his side. The elder leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his bones clicking in protest as he faced the youth's pouting features.

"You need not to worry about details such as this, when you are needed you are called upon. Do not drabble on such folly nonsense that the simplest of minds could easily resolve-" The elder raised his arms referring to the building they currently occupied with small clusters of armed men and women sharing laughs of unheard jokes. The mood suddenly shifted as the large man spoke with a younger man with his hair clipped close to his scalp and exchanged a few words before  
turning to the elder.

"Sir, the briefing room is prepared" He informed, the elder simply nodded before getting up from his seat and the trio followed behind the fresh-faced recruit into a section of the building where a hand-picked team had awaited since their arrival. Taking a seat in the front row, the large man and teen settled down in their seats as the lights dimmed and an image of a war-hardened man with hair and full mustache tinted to a mute silver.

"This is Yuri Rascalov, our Russian contact" The older man's accent cut through the silent air as he spoke. "You are to meet him on the outskirts of Afghanistan, in an abandoned village near the border of Iran," He explained, pressing onto the remote held within his grasp and the slideshow switched to a map of the Middle East.

"Here," He pointed to a portion of the map that was a few clicks from where someone had written 'Rendezvous point' in red marker followed by a precise location and coordinates. "Is where an American encampment is nestled, supposedly scanning the area for insurgents" he turned back to the men and women watching with interest before continuing.

"But we do have reason to believe that they're sniffing around for our trail, so we're going to handle this with caution and absolute precision" The crowd murmured an agreement and continued on with details regarding preparations and such.

"Should they attempt to eliminate us and our Russian contact?" The English youth chimed in, gaining everyone's attention. The large man seated next to him only chuckled and inhaled deeply.

"It wouldn't come down to that, but by some circumstances they do we won't back down whether it's out there, or here..." The youth cocked his head like a curious pup as the large man spoke.

"Because this, this is our domain...no one in their right mind would dare to venture out this far from civilization" The other large man was now standing, his finger pointed downward and raising his voice and gathering the attention of the entire room and silencing the murmurs of eagerness behind him.

"Should they choose to-they will be curtly disposed of by our fine men and women!" He shouted the last portion, sparking an uproar among the crowd gathering around; all raising their fists in mock salute and shouting what could only be described as an all-out bloodthirsty battle cry that reverberated off from the walls and only  
increased in volume. The large man raised a muscular arm and chanted along with them, gaining strength from their jeers of patriotism.

"Are we gonna give 'em hell?" He questioned with feigned curiosity, and was responded with an ear-drum shattering 'Hell yeah!' fueled by the adrenaline induced crowd, he turned to the large, heavy metal doors at the far end of the room and pushed them open with tremendous force. Behind him, the roaring crowd followed still chanting full of pent up energy as they gathered their gear and loaded into their transports.

"Let's get this started,"

* * *

Sand kicked up in a rapid cyclone, barraging the exterior of the SUV tearing across the barren landscape; the occupants inside bouncing and swaying as the vehicle rode over rough patches of asphalt and dry, cracked earth. Behind them, their convoy a dust trail spanned several meters from their current position.

A young, raven haired female in the backseat leaned to the side with her elbow resting against the window with her chin cupped in her palm; dark eyes scanning across the featureless land passing her vision, aside from abandoned structures standing on their stripped foundations.

"Are you sure we're headed in the right direction?" She questioned toward the large man seated in the front seat; his skin dark and tanned and build of a working man. He spared her a quick glance before pulling up on his sleeve; revealing a sleek device that took up a large portion of his forearm.

"Shouldn't be more than a few clicks from our current position," He announced, adjusting the Velcro pouches on his vest; each concealing various equipment from lethal to non-lethal. He then turned to her, flashing a reassuring smile; his white teeth contrasting against his brown skin.

The smaller woman huffed at the humidity within the cabin and tugged at the collar of her clammy shirt sticking uncomfortably against her pale skin; yet seeing the larger man's smile caused her to return the gesture. Satisfied, he turned back toward the long stretch of road ahead.

The woman relished at the cool steel of the submachine gun resting on her lap as she ran her lithe fingertips across the base. The large man reached forward to a short-wave radio system holstered on the dashboard. Snatching up the receiver, he mashed down the call button before speaking.

"Magic to Apocalypse, do you copy?" He repeated into the device, earning him a wave of static before a booming laughter erupted through the speaker.

"Getting a bit nostalgic are we Eric?" The male's voice cooed through the speakers in a teasing manner, the man's laughter now fading into chuckles. Magic gritted his teeth before smashing down the call button with more than enough force to crack the small plastic receiver.

"Are you in position?" He growled past gritted molars, thinking up every curse under the sun for the unprofessionalism at a moment like this but withheld his tongue. The other man's laughter died out once sensing the tension in his tone and spoke in a melodramatic tone enough to put Shakespeare to shame.

"Calm yourself David before you quarrel with Goliath, for you shall-"

Magic rolled his eyes while cutting the conversation short with a simple "Just get into position," before switching off the comms and settling in his seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"You know, fighting over a short-wave radio isn't exactly what Phillipe had in mind when he sent us on this 'team exercise'," Another dark haired female identical to the woman across from her spoke up, her lips tight in a strict manner as she gave him a hard stare. He only shrugged before the magazine in his assault rifle, then smacking it back in and tugging sharply on the charging handle.

"The town is up ahead sir," The only mute occupant of the vehicle informed; a young male no more than twenty-five years of age. He took a gloved hand from the steering wheel and pointing ahead, the two identical sisters crammed forward over the middle console.

Watching as the dusty and worn structures in the distance began to grow closer and larger. The tall buildings creating a dim overcast atmosphere bathed in an amber glow from the high desert sun beading down from above. Armed guards stood atop the buildings, their postures poised and their features obscured by balaclavas and shemaghs.

The SUV lurched forward in a snail's pace, carefully maneuvering through the tight roads and alleyways. The young driver visibly gulped as a small group of what looked to be former Spetsnaz soldiers eyed the vehicle with hard glares, one man grinning while running his calloused hand over the rocket-propelled grenade launcher slung across his torso.

Sensing the younger man's tension, Magic rested a hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring pat before pulling up in front of what looked to be an abandoned monastery, the remnants of stained glass windows lie buried into the sand while the large mahogany doors hung limply from the hinges.

"Ready up," He commanded to the other occupants within the cabin, each giving a swift nod before securing their body armor and equipment. Magic himself eyed the men standing guard outside of the monastery before exiting the SUV; others behind them following suite. The dirt under his boots crunching audibly as he stalked forward with his company in tow, the two sisters standing in between the men in a makeshift barrier with duffle bags slung over their shoulders.

As the group walked further into the building, past the broken pews and even more shattered piles of faded stained glass they came face to face with the lone man Yuri standing at the altar like a groom awaiting his bride, his worn features stretching into a toothy smile as they approached.

"I see you decided to arrive," Yuri spoke in a rather raspy voice, his speech echoing throughout the empty space before dying out in the distance. He was a rather large man; his shirt tight against his muscular form and his features hardened in the same fashion as seen in his profile.

"Follow me," He lead them towards another section of the building near the rear entrance, outside groups of men were un-loading an endless amount of crates that lined along what looked to be a sidewalk from the looks of the cracked concrete and dead grass erecting through the gaps. The man took a crowbar from an awaiting soldier and stabbed into the edge of a larger crate before brutally prying it open.

"I hope this is to Mr. Loren's liking," He announced with a grunt as he and another soldier lifted the lid, revealing a vast array of weaponry packed away underneath bundles of straw. Magic grinned and let his rifle fall to his side but never letting his other hand move far from the handgun holstered on his thigh. He surveyed the weapons and nodded to himself before coming back to eye level with the Russian.

"You held up your end of bargain, correct?" Yuri spoke in a more demanding tone than curious. His own hand moving to the impressive sidearm holstered under his arm. Magic jerked his head towards the two females and they proceeded to present the contents of the duffle bags with their guards standing at their side.

"Uncirculated bills, nontraceable" Magic explained as stacks of currency were laid out on the hood of a nearby truck, Yuri looked on with mild interest before turning to Magic with his arms crossed; muscles expanding to become more threatening.

"Is this all you plan to offer?" He questioned, gesturing towards the pile of bills atop the truck's hood. "I have known Phillipe for many of years, he is not man to keep his deep pockets sewn shallow..."

"A greedy arms smuggler, why am I not surprised?" Magic thought before breaking out into a half-grin and reaching into a pouch on his vest and tossing a paper bag to the man, whom caught it one-handed and measured its weight before ripping open the packaging, revealing a medium sized gold bar. The soldier's eyes surrounding him went wide as they spied the small fortune in his palm.

"A small taste of a much larger portion, Loren himself will deliver the rest as soon as they're re-cut and cleaned" Magic uttered proudly as the man couldn't help but burst into a boisterous laughter and clapped a hand to Magic's shoulder.

"I like the way you do business!" Yuri stated, cradling the bar of gold like his newborn child before looking to his men whom began to load the crates into the SUV and awaiting transport vehicle that had arrived on the scene after receiving the all clear.

* * *

Mid-way through loading up a good portion of the crates, a loud shot cracked through the air. The bullet from an unknown source spiraled through the window of a nearby building, striking one of the Spetsnaz carrying a large crate, the force hurling his corpse into the dirt.

"Sniper! Get down!" Yuri shouted, drawing his sidearm and firing a few rounds in the direction from where he believed the shot to have originated. Chaos ensued as unseen forces unleashed a flurry of gunfire, ripping through the unsuspecting smugglers as they scrambled for cover.

A deafening boom Sent all toppling to the floor as a nearby building erupted into a flaming mass. Magic himself winced as shards of glass from a window above him shattered and embedded themselves into the exposed portions of his body before jumping to his feet and pulling the dazed Yuri to cover. Humvees waving American flags came screaming around the corner with heavily armed foot soldiers clad in heavy desert camouflage armor fired on them with precision.

A few managed to return fire before being cut down by the mounted fifty-caliber mini-gun on the lead Humvee. Magic, along with a few remaining men and women not slaughtered in the initial attack curled behind a crumbling brick wall, nursing their wounds.

"Unhand me!" Yuri shouted, attempting to get to his feet as Magic forced him down. Yuri continued to struggle, attempting to help his comrades as they were ripped apart by gunfire.

"No!" He cried, lashing out in anger before a blow from an unseen force knocked him unconscious. Magic jerked his head up to see Viola standing over, checking the older man's pulse before sighing in relief.

"Damn, thought I killed him" She gave a light-hearted chuckle, causing Eric to snort slightly. "Get him to the truck," He told to a man settled next to him; he nodded before dragging the unconscious Yuri out of sight and harm's way.

"We can't stay here!" Kiki screamed over the gunfire, ducking down further as more rounds struck the concrete above their heads. In the panic, she quickly jumped to her feet and began sprinting toward the relatively unscathed SUV standing a few meters away.

"Kiki, shit-" He attempted to object but the young woman was out of sight in an instant, once hearing the gunfire die down a notch he quickly followed behind her, emptying his magazine into a few soldiers attempting to ambush them. Sliding behind the cover of the large SUV, he settled next to her attempting to catch his breath and adrenaline rush.

"The hell were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed!" He berated her, smacking in a fully loaded magazine before popping up and gunning down a few more desert camo cladded men closing in. Kiki made no attempt to respond as she clambered into the SUV and ducked down on the floor in a fetal position to avoid the gunfire above.

"Let's go!" Magic called out to the remaining recruits, giving them covering fire as they sprinted across the open street, ducking and dodging bullets. All but one managed to get behind the cover of the SUV; the unfortunate recruit with cry of agony tumbled to the dirt as a round pierced through his leg, causing a spray of blood to paint the ground.

"I'll cover you, grab him!" He commanded towards two men eyeing the young man digging into the dirt attempting to drag himself to cover, both nodded before rushing out in a free run; one lifting the injured man over his shoulders in a fireman's carry while the other kept the enemy forces at bay.

"We're good to go!" One called out, gently laying down the injured man onto the bed of a pick-up truck they'd taken for transport. Magic nodded, lobbing a grenade and effectively cutting down a swarm of troops closing in. Once everyone had loaded up, they quickly took off in a cloud of dust, trailing behind the convoy truck awaiting their extraction, with a few Humvees trailing behind.

"Magic to Apocalypse do you copy? The deal went to shit, we've got American Humvees on our tail, we could really use that back-up right now" Magic called into the radio, holding the device close to his ear awaiting a response.

"We're headed your way, try to keep your head away from the bullets" The deep voice replied in a monotone before cutting to static.

They continued onward, uneventful at best until a well-placed shot pierced through the windshield, ripping through the driver's skull and spraying the interior with brain matter. The two women settled in the back seat cried out in surprise and fear as Magic frantically reached over to take control of the steering wheel, but to no avail as they skidded off the road and barrel rolled into a ditch.

* * *

As the dust settled, Magic crawled through the dented cabin, scraps of metal and glass digging into his forearms as he dragged his half-conscious body through the rubble.

"Viola, Kiki..." He called out meekly to the two dangling forms, their nylon and polyester belts digging into their torsos and cradling their unconscious bodies in place. Running a gloved hand over their still features, he proceeded to draw his knife to cut the belts and settled their bodies a safe distance from the totaled SUV.

"Come on Viola, wake up" He said, gently smacking the young woman's pale cheek, his tone frantic yet contained as he did the same to the other. "Kiki?" He pressed a finger to the under-side of her jaw, smiling more internally once receiving a pulse; albeit relatively weak.

'Whew, they're gonna be fine' he reassured himself while lifting the lifeless corpse of the drive from the dirt; blood still trickling down the back of his skull, staining his dirty blonde hair peeking out under his cap.

"Damn... too young to go like that" He nodded solemnly, drawing a bloodied palm across the young man's face, pushing the still cold eyes closed. After a beat, the distant roars of engines in the distance caught his attention, making him jump to his feet gripping his assault rifle tight before moving up the road, crouching behind a large sand dune.

"Fuck me, Son of a bitch... Now I know how it feels to be on the other end." He muttered under his breath for his fallen comrades; spying the convoy truck stopped a few meters ahead; the occupants now dragged out onto the road and being held hostage while they rummaged through the cargo.

The military Humvees following behind them skidded to a halt beside the crash site, armored soldiers piling out and standing near the edge of the ditch examining the twisted mass of metal.

Their attention occupied, Magic leaned out from behind his cover and fired towards the unsuspecting men, a few tumbling down from the impact and others jostled between each other before ducking behind their respective Humvee. Taking the time he reloaded his assault rifle as bullets impacted the small mound he had been using for cover.

As they returned fire, he proceeded to pick out his shots, striking a few straying soldiers and knocking them to the ground with before sprinting across the broken asphalt and meeting the remaining troops head-on.

A soldier exiting a Humvee attempted to grapple with Magic only to be shoved back and have him smash the heavy door into his torso repeatedly until another came around the other end of the vehicle and was quickly dispatched with a few rounds from his handgun to the chest before it clicked empty, tossing the empty mass to an approaching assailant square in the face.

"Fuck!" He cried out, his hands flying up to cup his now bloodied nose as Magic approached, landing a hard jab in the stunned man's diaphragm; sending him down on his knees gasping for air. While on the ground, large forearm wrapped tight around his throat, a quick jerk silencing his wheezing with a loud snap.

The soldier leaning against the frame of the Humvee for support coughed and sputtered as Magic approached, immediately diving into the interior and frantically reaching for his assault rifle in the passenger seat, in his haste neglecting to shut the door as his ankle was crushed in a vice grip and he was forcefully tugged out from the Humvee, crying out as he came into contact with the hard earth.

"You die first, get it? Your friends might get me in a rush, but not before I turn your head into a canoe, you understand me?" He growled to the cowering man, not awaiting a response as he smashed his boot into his face, the satisfying crunch of the cartilage in his nose snapping followed by the thick string of red liquid gushing from his mouth bringing a dark smile to Magic's lips. Yet it was short lived as helicopters zoomed overhead, kicking up a small sandstorm as they began their descent.

Taking cover behind the Humvee, he readied his weapon. Mentally cursing as he realized his ammo supply was running dry.

"Damn, last mag... make it count..." Hitting the bolt release, he popped out from behind cover and aimed down his sights. Time seemingly slowed as he spied more troops than he could count on two hands in his cross-hairs, his finger lingering over the trigger until a small cluster of objects landed in between the large swarm.

Recognizing the small explosive shells, he ducked back down as a rapid succession of explosives went of simultaneously, the close  
proximity near deafening. The soft whump of helicopters replaced by the eerie screech of alarms, the large aircraft's nose-diving from the sky in thick plumes of smoke.

"Shit, look out!" A distant voice cried as the aerial beasts collided, creating a massive explosion with enough force to send a spine-tingling shock-wave through the area. Magic watched as the troops scattered in all directions, gunfire from unseen forces ripping through their bodies.

"Good to see you're still in one piece, somewhat..." A familiar deep droning voice called, Eric snapped his head around and came face to face with a hulking form, large belts of grenade cartridges spread across his large torso in a mercenary fashion, along with a bright Luchadores mask wrapped around his features tight like a second skin.

"Easy for you to say; you just sat on your ass while we were getting decimated out here" Magic retorted, glaring daggers at the larger man. The other simply gave a throaty chuckle and merely waved a hand dismissively while emptying the cylinder of his grenade launcher; spent shells clicking noisily onto the road. "I've seen men torn apart to bits and pieces-"

"All casualties of war," The larger man interrupted, retrieving cartridges from the belt strapped across his broad chest. "You didn't have any remorse killing your own," He gestured toward the corpse slumped over in the sand; his eyes hollow and blood slowly streaming from his mouth.

"Like I said before Eddie-that isn't my life anymore" Magic forcefully gripped the muscular man's arm, spinning him around to face him. "My own, were killed right before my eyes. Their blood is still on my hands..." He looked to his open palms now exposed, faint streaks of crimson across their surface along with a multitude of injuries.  
Tears prickling behind his eyes as memories flashed across his mind, but were soon dismissed as his pain returned to anger.

"You don't know half the shit I've been through!" He shoved his large hands against his chest, making the unsuspecting man stumble back. Quickly recovering, Killbane retaliated; slamming his palms back with his eyes burning holes through his mask.

"Watch your mouth, or I'll crush you like the insect you are..." He threatened lowly, gritting his teeth. Both men held a heated glare; neither giving any ground until a new voice interrupted.

"Gentlemen," The thick accent cut in, grabbing their attention. Standing a few feet away was a tall, statuesque man. His features obscured slightly by the lowered fedora atop his greying hair and dark tinted glasses over his dim eyes.

"Mr. Killbane, it would be best to give our well accomplished comrade a warm greeting over a job well done no?" His stated in his friendly French lisp, smiling genuinely with a hand clasped on both men's shoulders.

"Job was anything but a success, marines caught wind of the deal and ambushed us at the rendezvous point, hell they took out most of us out" Magic replied meekly, his tone distant and cold. The elder simply shook his head and released a tired sigh.

"Well that is indeed a shame, but there is nothing we can do to alter the past" He responded, patting Magic's shoulder. "Now, shall we get going?" Both men nodded, still sharing looks to each other before following behind the elder, leading them towards an awaiting helicopter with its blade spun up and ready to go.

* * *

**AN: Whew! I know that was a little bit long for some but I'm glad you made it to the end. I hope you enjoyed it. Remember to leave a review, and if you like it make sure you favorite and follow it so you can know when it updates. Now on to other matters. There are way too many to thank for helping me out with this chapter and with this story but this one is dedicated to CertainUncertainty. She has helped immensely with me on everything I have for this story and for future stories as well. Also shouts out goes to my Co-Author J3FAwesome for without him none of this is possible. Now if your an SR Author or an Author in general and you need help with your stories there are three places you can go too. 1st Third Street Author's Forum 2nd Planet Saints Loft in the Saints Row Forum, and finally 3rd . So once again I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I promise you the next one will definitely NOT take as long. Thanks and have a blessed day**


	3. STS: The Three King's Blitz

**Author's Note: **_We're back... It's been a long time, but we are back to give the people what they want. Sorry we took so long, you know life happens and also we take breaks every now and then so that we don't burn ourselves out making sure everything is right before we publish this chapter to you. My partner J3FAwesome continuously sends his thanks for all of the reviews and everything, as do I. We promise to try and keep the updates less than a month, especially with the holidays coming up with time off, we will try to get more updates on both the Saints and Syndicate sides of the story. With that being said, enjoy the Saints chapter and don't forget if you like it, review, favorite, and follow. _

* * *

The overcast twilight gave way to an ablaze dawn, bathing the entire cityscape in a brilliant amber glow. Albeit the breathtaking scenery as the first glints of sunlight rose over the horizon, stories below the surface of cracked asphalt streets and early risers preparing for their day to come men and women clad in purple garb of all sorts gathered around, heads bowed in respect to their fallen comrades arranged in neat rows.

All of whom sheltered beneath white quilts embroidered with the infamous Third Street Saints crest; an elegant large plum shield stood prominent in the center surrounded by intricate gold curves and a triage of Fleur-De-Lis symbols nestled into the four quarters of the shield.

Vince, the leader of the Saints watched on over the balcony above, his muscular arms groping the polished oak tread that ran along the second floor leading to the flight of stairs to the foyer and bottom floor. His vision swept across the room, surveying the hurt and angry expressions on his follower's features. Releasing a visible sigh, he turned on his heel striding past the luminescent sign reading 'Purgatory' in gold lettering punctuated by pinkish lighting. Upon reaching the large expanse of his office/bedroom he slumped into his genuine leather chair; the material audibly squeaking under his weight.

Once settled, Vincent kicked his feet up on the granite surface of his desk. Scratching absent-mindlessly at the deep crimson stained bandage wrapped around his abdomen. As the bullet wound eased to a dull throbbing with the help of a handful of painkillers, he picked up the remote to his television and pressed the power button. His agitation grew as the familiar disembodied voices that usually drowned out the eerie silence in his office were absent. Suspecting the remote to be the issue, he smacked the back against the heel of his palm in a makeshift CPR procedure to revive the batteries.

"Come on," He muttered intently, pressing down the buttons more firmly the second time around before turning his vision up and spying his beloved flat screen television riddled with more holes than he could count, the shattered remnants complete with sparks emitting from the exposed interior circuitry.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" He growled throwing his head back in exhaustion while combing his fingers through his hair in frustration before hurling the remote at a nearby wall, watching in dark satisfaction as it exploded into a thousand pieces raining down plastic and electric components on the polished marble floor.

After a moment of self-loathing and disappointment into his favored television series' season finale, he was removed from his stupor by a sudden rap at his door frame.

"Yo boss, how you holdin' up?" The tall silhouette spoke as it stepped into the dimly illuminated room, his features slightly more visible. Tribal tattoos decorated the skin on the underside of the man's strong jaw and along his neck which lead to his sharp cheekbones beneath pale skin. His walk across the marble floor in a tall and proud manner despite the slight limp in his step once his weight shifted to his left leg.

Vincent simply waved a hand nonchalantly, causing the other man to release a chuckle that rumbled out from the inside of his large chest as he flipped a chair the opposite direction and took a seat across him.

"Course, only you'd be able to shrug off a gut shot-"

"-Johnny can it wait? I'm watching Bobby and Amber..."

Vincent interrupted with a tired sigh, gesturing to the busted up television. Johnny raised a brow and turned his head back before a humored grin pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Love that episode," he stated, jerking a thumb behind him before leaning over the back of the chair that the front of his torso rested against.

"Like I was saying,"

"I don't have time for this-"

"Always figured you were one that the devil's been waiting on to punch your ticket, 'specially after you survived bailing out from Hughes' yacht after that bitch got grilled up harder than a Freckle Bitches' Bleeder"

Vincent stiffened at the mention of Senator Alderman Hughes. Despite the incident being nearly a decade old, it still managed to plague his subconscious at all times of the day ever since he awoke strapped to a cot in the Stilwater Penitentiary infirmary and his only means of escape was by his soon faithful doe-eyed companion at his side.

He shuddered at the thought...

Since the anti-climactic event, he had always kept himself on high alert, resorting to nothing less than complete hostility to nearly all those he communicated with in hopes of closing himself off completely without the constant nagging paranoia of a mutiny spearheaded by those close to him. Especially when the physiological wound of his only father figure's attempts to burn him alive were still fresh. Albeit his monotonous demeanor coupled with cold indifference, he did in fact allow his anxiety to simmer down so that he could enjoy a few ice-cold brews with his comrades after a victory over their opposers, but not without his fingers grazing the cool steel of his handgun he kept hidden in the waistband of his jeans, not hesitating to react in a situation that would result in gunning down those he considered to be what was as close as he'd get to a real family.

A truly fucked up family on that note...he mused

With a clinically insane, sadistic madman with a pension for morbid acts and pure and utter destruction seated across from him. Or the bickering duo ten years his junior, constantly nit-picking on each other whose relationship could only be described as a sibling rivalry that stemmed from wanting to become known in the criminal other than cheap mixtapes and drugs. Despite their shortcomings, he held each of them in high regard not second guessing himself for a single moment when their lives are in danger, quick to the draw of putting his own life on the line to ensure their safety.

He felt a bit hypocritical at that...

One minute he was willing to spill their blood on his turf to put an end to their betrayal before it began. The next minute, he was willing to spill his blood to give them another minute, another hour, another day on this godforsaken earth.

"Earth to boss, you in there?"

The sudden gruff tone snapped him from his musing, he hadn't realized he had completely zoned out in his own state of recollection, staring into space leaving the room in an awkward silence.

To ease the still atmosphere, Vincent retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the bottom drawer of his desk, producing it and two glasses. Johnny picked up the hefty bottle of alcohol, running his fingers over the label as he grinned from ear to ear.

Bruichladdich X4, 184 proof. "Breaking out the good shit eh?"

He nodded in approval, popping off the cork with his bare hand and poured them both a glass before taking a measured drink; hissing as it hit the back of his throat. Vincent followed suite, instead downing his drink in a single gulp before releasing a pleased grunt in retort.

"Any news on who wrecked our crib?" Vincent questioned, leaning back in his chair awaiting a response with his arms crossed over his bare chest. Johnny took another drink from his glass, grabbing the bottle for a refill before he spoke.

"Sent the boys out to gather some intel and lock down our turf, but all we got so far is that they were flying Samedi colors-but get this," He pointed a finger from the hand he held the glass in. "Our guys' street side said there were some Ronin and Brothers poking around before the Samedi showed up"

The only sign of surprise present on Vincent's face was the slight raise of his eyebrow as he poured himself another drink.

"Only a matter of time before they started using their heads," He took a sip and let out a disgruntled sigh. "If it isn't one thing; it's another"

Vincent stood and walked across the room towards a large window that expanded the entirety of the wall of his office, peering down below at the small clusters of men and women clad in purple garb talking among themselves; by their body language alone he could assume that some were in heated debates over the recent events.

"Crew's getting restless" Johnny stated.

He now stood next to Vincent, their broad shoulders inches apart as they watched below at the people who would follow them through hell and back at the snap of a finger.

"Lost a lot of people," Vincent added solemnly, his grip tightening on his glass enough to turn his knuckles pale.

"You see Shaundi or Pierce around?" He questioned, and Johnny nodded.

"Pierce went off with the boys chasing after some Samedi that were camping out in the parking lot," He took a sip before continuing. "Shaundi, haven't seen head or tail of her since the raid began, might be locked up in her room."

Vincent sighed at that shaking his head, forcing back his boiling anger at the teen.

"Good, the less she's around the better" He mumbled, scratching at the light hair gathering around his jaw line, reminding him to shave soon. "She practically opened the front door for them."

"I don't think that's how it went but-" Johnny attempted to protest, but instead Vincent turned on his heel throwing the glass against the wall behind them; the glass shattering into a thousand pieces before raining down on the tiled floor.

"It is exactly like that!" He screamed, striding over to his desk. With tremendous force, he lifted the monstrosity up off the floor; his muscles straining underneath the pressure. He pushed it forward before launching it over the edge of the now broken ceiling to floor window he and Johnny had stood.

"Fuckers think they can come into my home," He was now throwing his fist through anything he could find and hurling anything that wasn't bolted on the floor.

"Kill my crew!" After a moment he settled, flopping down on the only remaining piece of furniture that remained untouched from his fit of rage. He was slumped over, taking deep and desperate breathes; blood trickling from his raw knuckles and various cuts along his arms.

Johnny only remained deathly still throughout, spectating his leader's outburst considering he was a man of few words and never showed emotion, only speaking with his usual monotone.

A reassuring hand on his shoulder withdrew Vincent from his revere, he peered up at the large man as if now comprehending his presence. Catching his breath, Vincent stood nodding to his comrade in a silent apology before looking toward the window, the occupants downstairs were huddled together stunned by the display they had witnessed.

Making his way down the grand staircase, Vincent swam through the sea of bodies until jumping up on the bar at the far end, smashing the boom box blaring rhythmic lyrics with his foot, silencing the room.

"Alright, listen up!" He declared in an authoritative tone suppressing the quiet murmurs among the crowd as they craned their heads up in his direction.

"We've got a lot of shit to discuss-especially about the assholes that came knocking at our door,"

"Killed our family," He added, pointing a finger at the corpses hidden underneath the pale quilts.

"Spilled our blood, on our turf" The crowd began to get riled up, some shouting angry slurs and others having a look of blood lust cast across their features.

"They came into our home, disrespected us" His voice was raising with every word he spat as he opened his arms wide gesturing all around.

"And I know for a fact we ain't the kind of motherfuckers to back down!" The crowd roared back in retort, Vincent used their adrenaline to their advantage as he ripped a machete that was wedged into the molding of the bar and held his high above his head.

"We're the kind of motherfuckers that when we wake up in the morning, and our feet hit the ground the devil himself says 'Oh shit, they're up'!" A few dark laughs escaped from some of the men and women.

"We're gonna crush them like the cockroaches they are, no matter where they hide we will hunt them down!" He chopped at the air with the glistening blade as the crowd released a blood curdling war cry, all raising their fists and weapons in response.

"Let's get this shit started."

* * *

A lone, thin man wearing a tattered green shirt and dirty khaki cargo shorts dragged himself across the ground, grunting in effort and pain as he clawed and pulled himself along the gravel road. He continued on for a good while before he was met with a pair of tan boots, leading up across denim clad legs to a tall figure wielding a shiny revolver in one hand and in the other a deep crimson blade still releasing droplets of the dark liquid.

The young man's eyes widened to the size of saucers as he attempted to escape, gathering enough strength to stand on wobbly legs and hobble away at a stable pace. Nearing the end of dank alleyway leading to a few more men and women clad in similar garb to his fighting an unseen enemy he tumbled to the ground as two rounds erupted through his legs, causing him to collapse under his own weight.

He cried out in agony as the figure strolled over in a patient pace and put pressure onto his shattered kneecap. The smaller man blinked away his salty tears until the haziness retreated enough so that he could see before weakly calling out to his comrades, whom instead of aiding him were torn apart in a hail of gunfire from what seemed like an entire garrison of assault rifle wielding assailants.

Looking away once the survivors of the onslaught were silenced with a single shot to the temple, he peered up at the tall silhouette now dragging him by the collar of his shirt into the open, bypassing the fresh corpses still twitching involuntarily.

As the young man's vision cleared, he was able to make out the figure he had cornered in an abandoned parking lot with a few other carloads of Samedi behind him, seemingly having the advantage until they were all cut down both literally and metaphorically.

He stiffened as the blade of the Vincent's machete was pressed up against his throat, forcing his head onto the plum car he was splayed out onto, his limbs held in place by the gang leader's men.

"Now, I'm gonna ask you one time, and one time only" He growled into his ear, sending shivers down his spine by the venom laced in his words.

"Who ordered the siege on my crib?"

The young man shook his head fervently, fear filling his eyes not only of the man with a razor-sharp blade hovering centimeters above his jugular vein, but for also for whom had taken the throne after The General's death.

"Last chance,"

He sighed as the young man only shook his head again. Raising his hand he held the machete he slashed at his torso, opening a large gash exposing the flesh and tendons beneath the skin.

The young man screamed at the top of his lungs as the blade was brought down again and again until his body was a mess of deep lacerations all bleeding profusely.

"Lady Calypso!" He finally cried, squirming around as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Lady Calypso..." He said again, defeated and ashamed.

"Voodoo black magic queen herself," Johnny spoke, pushing up his tinted glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"She in town huh?" He turned to the young man who nodded fast enough to give him whiplash.

"Lady Calypso?" Vincent questioned, turning to his colleague whom had crossed his arm across his chest and stroked his chin in thought.

"Yeah heard a few rumors in prison that the Samedi worship 'er, even The General and Sunshine held her in high regard. It's said she could bring back the dead or some shit."

He replied nonchalantly as if it were a regular daily topic, causing the young man to sit up breaking free of his captors completely caught off guard.

They raised their weapons as he clung onto the Asian man, gripped the collar of his shirt with a death grip.

"Lady Calypso is not to be spoken of in that manner! She hears all! She knows all, she-"

His frantic blubbering was silenced once the blade of Vincent's machete connected with his skull, nearly splitting his head in two before it was ripped out that slashed across his neck slicing his head clean off his shoulders.

"Well, that's one way to end an interrogation..." Johnny mused, casually shrugging off the decapitated body slumped onto him.

"You alright?" Vincent questioned, poking and prodding at the disembodied head with the tip of his blade; after Sunshine, he always made sure they were dead. And the word of a 'Voodoo goddess' did little to ease his anxiety.

"Yeah, fine" He replied in a monotone, striding over to his custom Venom with Vincent in tow. Hopping over the door, Johnny stuffed the keys in the ignition and revved the engine for dramatic effect before peeling out in a cloud of smoke.

* * *

"Shit Johnny," Vincent said, groping any surface he could hold onto.

"Who in the hell taught you how to drive?" He added while Johnny tilted his head curiously while swerving out of the way of oncoming traffic.

"Taught myself," He jerked the wheel narrowly missing a large semi-truck barreling toward them.

"Damn good, ain't I?" He grinned, chuckling at his companions' nervousness.

"Always thought I'd go out in a blaze of glory, instead I'm gonna get killed when you wrap this shit around a tree" Was Vincent's reply.

Despite the fear, he still managed a chuckle and turned his vision behind them; an entire fleet of purple cars raced behind them, their occupants laughing and waving their arms in victory.

Vincent returned the gesture, managing to crack the first real smile in a long time.

Passing by a nearby Rim Jobs, Vincent tapped the dashboard a few times to get Johnny's attention gesturing toward the car repair shop. He nodded his head, drifting around a four way intersection before speeding back to the store, the cars following did the same before coming to a stop in the empty parking lot.

Jumping out of his seat, Vincent walked inside speaking to a burly man seated behind the counter, both exchanged a few words before the front metal shutters rose revealing a gloss painted Voxel, complete with the intricate gold inlay similar to their crest.

Johnny whistled as he put a hand on the beautiful machine, relishing at the cool fiber glass beneath his palm.

"Damn fine machine ain't she?" The mechanic stated, wiping his oil stained hands on an equally dirty rag.

"She run as good as she looks?" Johnny questioned and the mechanic nodded as Vincent entered the garage, keys in hand.

"It'll leave your ride in the dust," Vincent added teasingly over his shoulder, slipping into the driver's seat settled on the right side other than the usual American make cars with the controls on the left.

Johnny bristled, looking to his car before turning his attention back to his cocky comrade.

"That baby over there," He pointed to his venom as he leaned over the window on Vincent's opposite. "Ain't never seen a set of tail lights"

Vincent chuckled, pushing in his keys and starting the engine.

"There's a first time for everything" He said over the roar of the engine, shifting into first and joining the recruits in the parking lot, they gathered around as he honked the horn to get their attention.

"You boys and girls ready for a race?" They all looked to each other before their faces shaped into huge grins, all nodding their heads and sprinting to their respective vehicles.

Once they all were positioned head to tail on the barren street on the outskirts of the city, Johnny pulled up next to Vincent, leaning heavily on the door frame.

"Last one to the crib buys drinks tonight?" He offered a wager between them, Vincent stroked his chin in thought before looking back with a half-smile.

"Sound good to me"

After waves of anxious racers taunting each other, they took off in a squeal of tires and black smoke, Vincent quickly took the lead while shifting gears to appease the machinery demanding to be pushed harder.

Johnny sped past the cars struggling to keep up, quickly taking ground until both were tied for first.

Drifting around a corner, the two men fought for dominance neither giving an inch and moving dangerously throughout the now bustling streets filled with the citizens of Stilwater.

Nearing the neighborhood just outside of Purgatory, the two men riding high on adrenaline and custom sports car sped together in succession with the noses of their cars pushing back and forth between each other until a large, red truck came seemingly out of nowhere and T-boned Johnny's Venom.

The force from both vehicles colliding into Vincent's voxel caused the two Saint's vehicles to barrel into each other and collapse into a heap of twisted, burning metal. The plum cars following behind skidded to a halt and their occupants poured out attempting to help their superiors but were met by a swarm of yellow clad figures riding up to them on foreign bikes, wielding sub-machine guns.

In an instant, an entire gunfight broke out on the streets as the men and women of varying colors fought against each other as the totaled wreckage began to be engulfed by flames and the scent of burning flesh wafting through the air...

* * *

Drifting in and out of consciousness, Vincent struggled as he pulled himself from the remnants of his newly repaired Voxel, shards of glass digging into his forearms as he pulled his beaten form across the ground until he was a good distance from the flaming masses of metal. Looking across the streets as his crew battled an onslaught of red and yellow clad figures, he spied a trio of unrecognizable silhouettes; two large ones flanking a lithe form with long dreadlocks swaying back and forth as they sprinted in his direction.

One of the men ran past, retrieving another form from the smoldering wreckage of what he believed to be Johnny's Venom, blinking away the stinging tears that threatened to fall before he was met with hazel, green eyes staring into his dark ones immediately recognizing the woman to be Shaundi.

Shaundi hauled him up to his feet and hoisted his large arm over her slender shoulders as they stumbled a safe distance away followed by the other two men carrying the unconscious form of Johnny, whom had blood trickling down his temple and his body marred by various cuts.

Before they could reach the elevator doors to Purgatory, the two men fell to the ground as shotgun rounds tore through their bodies.

The young woman helping Vincent cried out in surprise as they whirled around in time to see the two men fall and a large man stride forward striking Vincent in the head with the butt of his shotgun, before she could attack their pursuer she was grabbed from behind by another large man, looking similar to the first with tattoos decorating his forearms and exposed chest.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, ranked amateurs, and these were the guys Maero wanted to cut a deal with, no wonder he was met with poetic justice."

Dragging the weakly struggling body of Vincent, the large man tossed him to the ground in front a dark-skinned women clad in various jewelry and clothing that could only be described as someone of high power and the air that she emanated only further proved her superiority.

"That will be all Torque, I thank you for your way with words and for disposing of those heathens," She spoke with a deep accent, he emerald eyes shimmering as she laid her eyes on the muscular, tattooed man with short cut hair. He nodded, cocking his shotgun and standing on the sidelines along with the other man restraining Shaundi.

"Guy," She said, turning to a lean, yet athletic Asian man with his long, black hair restrained in a neat ponytail.

"Ensure that our guest heeds my words" Guy nodded, unsheathing his katana and spoke while forcing Vincent onto his knees with his blade pressed against his throat; keeping his head craned up to the woman.

"You may think you are king, but your throne is seated atop a pile of corpses... most being your own." he said to him. Now it was the woman's turn to speak.

"I, am Lady Calypso" She stated, opening her arms and revealing her true form hidden beneath a thick robe. Her body was decorated with words and symbols of a different language on her dark and toned form.

"The almighty goddess of Loa, the one who sent her regards and knocked on your door."

You may have defeated my fair children Sunshine, and the General. But I assure you, I am not someone to be taken lightly..." She moved forward, running her dark painted nail along Vincent's cheek before cupping it in her hands.

"Leave him alone!" Shaundi screamed, struggling at her captor. Lady Calypso jerked her head in the girl's direction, seemingly noting her appearance for the first time. The air shifted and changed and with a force of her hand in the girl direction, she pinned Shaundi against a wall.

"Silence the girl," The man quickly obliged, clamping a hand over Shaundi's mouth, muffling her cries for help, while she was helpless against the wall.

"My, my...you are much more desirable to look at than my other subjects, I may have to keep you for my own...personal uses" Lady Calypso let out an amused giggle as she traced her finger along Vincent's face, causing him to stir slightly.

"Shh, worry not my child...you will be fine, in due time I will call upon your services..." She gripped his chin tightly, looking into his distant eyes before singing a soft tune that made his mind cloud over.

"Until then, I leave you with a righteous kiss, and surely it is me who you will miss..." She leaned in and planted a deep kiss onto Vincent's neck, nearly lasting a few seconds until his eyes shot open and pain erupted from his body.

Lady Calypso strode away, her subordinates following closely behind as they loaded into her Justice and took off before any of the other Saints could see her presence.

Vincent fell to the ground, screaming bloody murder as he clamped a hand over his neck.

"Boss, boss!"

Shaundi cried out as she knelt by his side, after the effects of Calypso wore off, attempting to calm his fit. Once he settled enough so that he wasn't flailing around too much, she slowly removed his hand from his neck, revealing the Voodoo symbol she remembered Sunshine using to conduct his black magic.

Vincent stayed on the ground, staring at his hands; charred flesh and flames licking beneath his skin peeling away. Before the pain could become too intense, he blacked out hearing nothing but distant voices and light fading from his vision.

* * *

**Author's Note:**_ Oh good, you made it all the way to the end. We are so proud._ _Man, that is a crazy way to end a chapter isn't it? I know some of you have questions but you're just going to have to wait until the next Saints chapter to possibly get your answers hahaha... Thanks for reading, also special shout out to CertainUncertainty who has been helping me out on various projects, ideas, and other things. You rock girl, don't let no one tell you differently. Go check out the "**Planet Saints Loft" **in the forums section (it is a starter up forum but with your help we can make it something for everyone). Once again thank you for reading. If you liked the chapter, review it. If you like the story don't forget to follow and favorite so you can get updates on it, and if you need anything else like advice don't for get to hit me up on the forum or in a PM. As always you are appreciated of no one has told you that today, and thank you for time and patience to read._


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